Milada
by Tofazz
Summary: Sometimes in ones life, you experience something new. Whether it was planned or not it is up to each of us to embrace it, or make distance between it.


The emerald green eyes of the matriarch feasted upon the newborn in front of her. Much of this newborn was a changeling like her, but something was different. Chrysalis lifted her head, letting her musky, mossed mane fall neatly to her side so it covered the open wound in the black scales upon her neck. Her slender legs stretched out, carefully wrapping the tiny thing closer.

The cave smelled of wet dirt, mixed with the fumes of her birth. Roots and moss protruded from the dark roof, and the only light came from the entrance itself far above, barely hitting the damp ground. She nestled far back atop a small hill of dirt, where the only soft spot was located between the rocks and crystals scattered around. While the inkling light may have challenged someone else, her eyes had no trouble envisioning her surroundings.

She heard the shrieks of her changelings from above, together with the buzz of their insect-like wings. They searched frantically for her; they needed their queen, yet she did not call out. Even when some of them let out a hurtful call for her, she made sure her scent was hidden from them. For she knew that they searched for her from instinct, as mindless drones bidding her call, or waiting for her to give them one. They were searching for her in hopes to breed more of them; how the thought disgusted her now…

Her gaze wandered from the hole above to the small foal resting in her hoofs, and a weak smile came over her lips. It was odd for her, not laying eggs. Yet, because of it, she felt nearer the foal than she did to any of her _other_ children. But it tired her so much more. Even if she wanted, she would never be able to fly in her current state, being completely drained of energy. Before, she would curse the inefficiency ofbirthing just one foal instead of a hundred. Even while tired, her heart could not be anything than thankful for what nestled close to her.

The foal stirred as a gust of wind barely crept in upon them from the entrance. Uncertain what to do, Chrysalis packed the foal tighter to her, offering the little warmth she could. She pushed aside some of the foals blue mane that had fallen over its eyes with her own muzzle, and gently kissed it; desperate for it to remain silent. Her heart pounded in her chest, about to explode. She gulped down her heaving for breath, and sighed as the foal stopped moving. The other changelings would probably kill it if they saw how different it was.

Chrysalis' shoulders drooped, her head leaned forward, and eyes squeezed shut. The fear and pain she felt now, she had inflicted upon others; no matter the reason, it was wrong. Never before had she been on the other side of the blade that now cut so deep within her heart. Opening her eyes again, her vision was felt upon the foal once more. _Chrysalis might deserve whatever would come to her, but her foal does not_, she reasoned as a sickening bloat grew in her throat.

The foal opened her eyes and looked upon the creature that was its mother. It had the same green shade around the iris as Chrysalis, but the iris itself was pink with a hint of violet inside. Laying upon the green scales a set of pink wings fluttered slightly as the muscles grew. The boney, whip-like structure of her tail ended in a blue flowing mane. And from her forehead, a small broken horn.

It came with a tiny squeak before falling silent from the gentle touch of its mother's lips. Her chest filled itself with warmth again upon touching it, before quickly turning into a deep void within once she realized that she wouldn't be around much longer. Then, as a tear rolled down her cheek, she realized what she had to do.

The birth of this foal was caused by her theft of Cadence's love, it was only right for it to be given back. She closed her eyes and nestled her neck close to the foal, if her energy would vane, the foal would survive at least. She focused, knowing that she still had some pull on Shining's mind, even from this far away, not as before, but enough to make him come, hopefully fast enough…

Surely, the alicorn of love would show compassion one last time, at least for her own foal?

The changeling queen's horn lit up barely, but the green light vanished with the blink of an eye. She closed her eyes for one more attempt. For the first time in her life, she knew what it was like to _love_ someone. Her body grew cold, and pieces of her heart fell apart, shattering with each second she came to realize it was something she would not experience for long. Her eyes began to burn as moisture came too, and as it rolled down her cheeks she let out a heart shattering cry, muffled by her hoof over her muzzle.

Shining Armor leapt over a rotten piece of wood and halted. He had been pulled by a mysterious force toward this location for two nights now, and it kept getting stronger as he moved deeper into the forest. Whatever it was down here, he needed to be alone. He was certain of it, but not sure why. Everywhere he looked, he saw marks upon the trees from changelings, and some dead husks that had begun to wither. He became weary, wondering if it had all been a ploy by Chrysalis one last time. Even with that thought, he couldn't shake how pleasant the pull was, the warmth within him.

This night, the sight of the Everfree Forest crept down his spine with a shiver. The moon glanced down upon the thick layer of mist rising from the moist, leaf covered ground. Rocks and large blades of grass cast uneasy shadows, not giving their form completely away. The trees broke the pale moonlight, looking like twisted, evil beings with branches for claws. The sound of leaves crumbling underneath his hoofs was the only sound to be heard, together with the trickle of a small river and the hoot of an owl.

He began to walk forward again, certain that the source was located underneath the ground and close to a hill in an opening near him. His violet captain armor plate clacked as he moved, covering most of his white fur, except for on his hoofs. He had left the helm back with Cadence, so his blue mane was left free to whip in the wind that hissed through the trees.

Once near the hill, he began to search frantically after an opening. He knew it was there somewhere; it puzzled him, for he had never been here before. After minutes of frivilous searching, he finally found it. His heart beat intensified as he let his horn light up in front of him. He embraced his sword with his magical aura, pulling it out of its sheath, and ventured down. The smell of musk and wet earth hit him, and something else, a sour smell he had not experienced before. His attention gave away, focusing on what he saw instead. More changelings littered the ground, malnourished from the look of it. The walls of the cave had large gashes in them, claw marks made out of desperation. It seemed only a few of those venturing in to the cave made it far, and those whom did had been stopped by something. He wondered what they searched for, and weary once more at the thought of what he might find himself. Would he suffer the same fate as them?

It was not too deep before he saw an unmoving form, barely lit up with a green orb of light. Moving closer, he restrained the urge to leap forward, for the unknown pull he had now felt like it would tear him apart. Finally, he let his own light hit the form, and as his heart skipped a beat, the warmth of the pull switched to a slowing rising heat within him. The longer he stared at it, the harder it became for him to focus. His blood began to boil, and his teeth gritted together hard enough that he swore they cracked. He rose his sword, thinking only of landing repeated blows and satisfying his own lust for revenge, but halted. The beast whom had subdued him before lay unmoving, her chest not even rising. Then he turned, looking at the changelings lying in his wake; he realized, she was the one that stopped them. The queen of the changelings lay dead in front of him, the only hint of life was the horn, barely lit up. The anger he felt slowly vanished, replaced with bewilderment over what could have happened here.

An faint cry came from underneath the mane of the queen. He sheathed his blade and leaned closer. Moving the mane, he saw the shivering form of a changeling foal looking at him with wonder in its eyes. The moment he laid eyes on it, his chest filled with warmth similar to the pull he had felt earlier. This was the reason he was out here, the queen had used her last spark of energy to make sure someone came to see her foal, one last hope for it to live past foalhood.

He wondered why he was chosen, of all ponies, just by looking at the black scales of her, his muscles tensed up and blood pressured his eardrums. The foal stirred, as if it felt his emotions from afar, and he took a deep breath. Carefully, he hovered a hoof over the foal, and as they touched a spark hit him. A wave washed over him, containing the emotions of the queen's last moments of, regret, fear, content… and like a warm blanket, he felt the love she had had for this foal. He stared into thin air, tears forcing themselves from his eyes as the last emotions of the queen hit him. It was a hollow pit of desperation, to the point where he had to hold his stomach to not throw up; her own chance of life was given up for the foal's sake.

She had contacted him, for she had no pony else. In a final call of desperation, she had turned to the pony she had wronged the most. There was a certain ache in his throat as he picked the foal up. It was innocent, for all that its mother had hurt him, he could not pin it on this foal. The light from Chrysalis' horn flickered and vanished and his emotions went empty, part from the appreciation that filled him while he wondered. If Chrysalis still had this much control over him, why didn't she do anything with him earlier? Perhaps she knew what would have happened if she was alive when he arrived.

Shining wanted to feel joy over the death of Chrysalis, but he couldn't. His heart fought itself from the thought that she hadn't felt love, for herself, or anyone else until the last hours of her life. He looked at the foal and decided a life at the beginning was innocent, if it remained so, or gave into its nature was left to see.

He held the foal close, and smiled as it carefully prodded its hoofs over his muzzle. The name that had been ringing in his head for the last two days, a name given by a dying mother. "Milada…" he whispered and wrapped her tightly close to his chest, as began the long way home. The name rolled weirdly off his tongue, but it was not his to give.


End file.
